


Smut in an Elevator

by Octavia_Street



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Be Careful What You Wish For, F/M, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Love Confessions, My First Smut, My First Work in This Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28946244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Octavia_Street/pseuds/Octavia_Street
Summary: The title says it all! I've been working diligently to finish this and I hope you enjoy it.Please be gentle with my first "official" fic.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	Smut in an Elevator

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RobinLeStrange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinLeStrange/gifts).



> Thanks to @RobinLeStrange for helping out :) I'm grateful you took on this battle!

The time had finally come for the Strike & Ellacott Private Investigator Agency--moving day. They needed more space with the growth the agency experienced after solving multiple high profile cases. Strike both loved and loathed those cases. The bank account was a lot healthier, but he was working a lot, which meant the amount of time available to spend with Robin was minimal, and his leg was hurting more frequently. She had offered to help him move out of his flat since the building had been sold to a developer, yet another reason for the agency to move. Robin was a compassionate person and was able to rearrange everything on the rota with Pat’s help. She and Strike had the entire weekend set aside for moving. 

The neglectful building owner decided he’d do Cormoran a solid by fixing the lift. Of course, he did the bare minimum to facilitate Strike moving out of the attic flat so he could get the building sold quicker. Strike was weary about the lift and the building owner’s attempt to “fix” it, but the lift seemed to be working well for the last few days. Cormoran was happy about this. It’d be more comfortable for him to move with a working lift instead of the many flights of stairs that had plagued his knee for years.

Robin and Cormoran had made a fair amount of progress getting his flat cleared out. He didn’t have much in the way of furniture or property. They began moving his armchair into the lift. It was a bit of a tight fit, but they made it work. He pushed the down button, and the doors to the lift closed. He sat in his chair so he could catch his breath. Even though he was wearing a sleeveless shirt and lightweight trousers, he was hot, and moving was still hell.

Before making it to the ground floor, the lift shuddered and jerked slightly before coming to a stop. They were between floors. Strike thought it’s just my luck that this would happen. The lift has been working fine, and now that we’re almost done, it gets stuck between floors. To make it worse, he was stuck inside this small confined space with Robin. He wasn’t sure how long they’d be stuck in the lift, and being in her presence did things to his equilibrium that he’d rather not think about.

After realizing they were stuck between floors, they looked at each other, unsurprised. Of course, this is something that would happen to them with this cheap building owner.

“I don’t have my mobile on me. I didn’t think I’d need it,” said Cormoran as he ran a hand through his unruly curls.

Robin reached into her pocket and pulled out her mobile. The battery was almost dead, and the signal was shit. She sighed and told Strike she wasn’t confident her call would go through when she tried to dial the # to call in the event of a lift malfunction. She looked down at her mobile and saw the call drop, bugger. At least Strike would be able to rest his knee for a while since they were conveniently moving his armchair.

Cormoran was torn about being stuck in a lift with her because she was the person he loved to spend time with the most. Being around Robin was the equivalent of being in the country and breathing in the fresh air. He didn’t want to need her, but he accepted a long time ago that his life was more comfortable and more bearable when she was a part of his world. That didn’t stop him from feeling internally annoyed because, at present, she was wearing tight yoga pants and a tank top. He loved it when she wore tank tops. She had beautiful shoulders and the freckles on them… he’d almost got himself into trouble a few times last summer because of his attraction to her and those damn tank tops. 

Robin was grateful she was wearing a tank top since she could feel the heat radiating off him. They were sitting close to each other. She liked being close to him because she could pick up a slight scent of his body wash mixed with smoke, sweat, and what she called ‘male musk.’ His smell was like an aphrodisiac to her senses. She didn’t want to make the situation any more uncomfortable than it already was, so she found a scuff on the lift door to focus on. Now was not the time to think about Strike and the jolt of desire she felt between her legs when she could smell him. She also didn’t want to think about how close their arms were as they sat on his chair in the broken-down lift.

Cormoran had been hoping Robin would sit on one of the chair’s arms so she would be next to him. His desire warred with his logic on this score. He could smell a hint of Narciso, and the heat in the lift seemed to get ratcheted up. He could see the beads of sweat sliding down her neck when he looked up. Her hair was up in a messy bun. Her shoulders and the back of her neck did things to him that he didn’t want to admit. Her shoulders, the freckles, her neck, what the hell was he thinking?? He needed to get his body under control before it ultimately betrayed him. He also needed to tell Ilsa to stay out of his love life when she would try to get Strike and Robin together.

They both felt the temperature inside the lift seem to intensify quickly. She could feel the heat of his body radiating into her. He could see the sweat on her shoulders. Robin began to feel internally overwhelmed by the heat, his smell, and him next to her in a sleeveless shirt. Her senses were overloaded as she tried to appear calm. She felt confident he could hear her heart racing. It was loud in her ears, even as she tried to keep her breath even.

Robin didn’t know, but Cormoran was also trying to appear calmer than he felt. He was struggling with her next to him. His heart was racing as he noticed the drops of sweat gliding down her neck. He thought about how good it would feel to kiss her neck. He wondered what her skin tasted like. Shit. He needed to stop thinking about her and tried to picture the gruesome photos he’d seen during his SIB days. Those pictures always seemed to help him maintain some semblance of control over his body and mind.

Unfortunately, those gruesome photos were not doing what he needed. Robin shifted next to him, and her forearm softly brushed his. He felt the control begin to crumble. She was so close. Her shoulders and the back of her neck were calling to him like a siren in one of the Latin poems he’d read a hundred times. His senses were overwhelmed, and before he realized what he was doing, he lightly pulled Robin into his lap. All Robin could think was, “bugger.” Neither of them said a word.

With her in his lap, he nuzzled his face into the crook where her neck and shoulder met. Robin didn’t recoil or appear surprised by his touch. She leaned her head in the opposite direction to give him more access. Her breath hitched as his lips made contact with the sensitive spot behind her ear. He softly kissed her neck down to her shoulder. He heard her breathing speed up, and Strike could swear she let out a quiet moan. His mouth slowly made its way to her ear as he breathed lightly and asked, “Is this okay?”

At that moment, Robin was speechless and simply nodded in agreement. Strike reached his calloused hand to the smooth skin of her cheek. He turned her face toward his. He wanted to look into her blue-grey eyes. She looked confidently back into his eyes, then down at his lips and whispered, “I want you.” He immediately crushed his lips into hers. It was the kind of kiss that takes your breath away, and he felt Robin melt into him. Her lips were soft and just as perfect as he’d imagined. 

Robin had always been curious about what his lips would feel like. She opened her mouth slightly to run her tongue against the scar on his top lip. He gave a guttural moan before reaching her tongue with his own. Robin and Strike slowly explored each other’s mouths as she ran her hand smoothly through his tousled hair. His hands began to explore her body; first, her waist, slowly up her back, and then to her naked shoulders. He pulled away briefly from their embrace long enough to tell her how much he has always loved her freckles and found her shoulders tantalizing. She whispered back a question, “Always?” He nodded in agreement, desire in his eyes as he repeated, “Always.”

Robin had never felt so turned on. A part of her thought throwing caution to the wind was the best way to proceed in this particular situation, and she pulled Strike’s shirt up and over his head. She rubbed her hands into the hair on his chest as she kissed his neck and the scar on his shoulder from the Shacklewell Ripper case as he caressed her back with his calloused hands. He looked into her eyes and lightly tugged on her shirt, and asked, “Okay?” She nodded in agreement as he gently pushed her tank top over her head.

Strike had thought she might be shy or reserved. He was surprised to see the desire and confidence in her blue-gray eyes. She looked into his green, hooded eyes and felt confident this was the right place and time… and with precisely the right person. Of course, they were stuck together in a broken-down lift. She considered the irony of that moment that they were literally stuck. There’d be no living with Ilsa after this, and she smiled.

Cormoran smiled back at her, in awe of her body, confidence, and something else he couldn’t vocalize. He asked what she was thinking. She commented on their current unlucky circumstance. The lift was broken, yet she couldn’t fathom being anywhere else. They both laughed at their apparent lack of luck, but Cormoran had always been partial to fun, flirty Robin. There were so many things about her that he loved.

Strike leaned forward and captured Robin’s lips with his own. He had no idea how long they’d been stuck in the lift by the time he made to stand, as did Robin. He shoved her against the wall. Their mouths remained connected as she lifted her legs and wrapped them around Cormoran’s waist. It was evident to her at that point that she wasn’t alone in her arousal. She ground her hips into his rock-hard cock, which made him swear and moan at the same time.

Robin couldn’t believe how safe and comfortable she felt in his strong arms. His chest was solid pressed against hers as they devoured each other’s lips and touched each other’s body. Robin couldn’t help but feel something was missing as she thought of only Strike. She pulled away from him briefly to reach down and remove her sports bra. She needed to know how his naked chest would feel pressed against hers. She had imagined the hair on his chest to be coarse, but as with his riotous curls, she found it soft and incredibly sexy. 

The skin-on-skin contact fed the desire that was already filling the lift. Robin ran her fingers through the hair on his chest. This was something she never imagined she’d be able to do. He would leave a couple of buttons undone when he wore a nice shirt… it drove her curiosity and desire wild to imagine him shirtless. She never thought chest hair could be sexy until she met Strike. And yet, here he was--both of them shirtless, touching and kissing each other with a level of passion she didn’t know existed.

He kissed and bit along her jaw, down her neck and clavicle, where he eventually made it to the edge of her shoulder. Strike whispered into her skin that he planned to kiss and nip at every inch of skin he could reach. He became acutely aware that she had removed her sports bra, and they were flesh-on-flesh; her creamy, soft breasts were being pushed into his chest. He felt an almost animalistic desire to hold her breasts in his large hands and to lick and suck the light pink nipples of each until they were bullet-hard.

She grabbed at the bars of the birdcage life to help maintain the friction building between her hips and his shaft. He ran his fingers along the juncture between her thighs and groaned, “Fuck.” He could feel the wetness that had begun to pool. He gently slid one of his hands down her leggings to her hot core. Strike began to slowly stroke her lips before dipping part of his index finger into her.

Robin couldn’t think and wasn’t sure if she was mentally processing what was now occurring in the lift. Strike’s cock was grinding into her clit as he continued his ministrations at her hot core. Eventually, Strike could feel her muscles tense and knew she was close to tipping over the edge. He wanted to feel her silky, hot, sticky release as he pushed a second finger into her. Before she knew it, stars were flashing past her eyes, and she heard herself moan, “Cormoran,” as he continued to buck up against her clit while she rode out her orgasm.

As Robin slowly came back to herself, she could feel Strike’s hands grabbing into her arse. She knew he was probably in some kind of pain as he held her pinned against the side of the lift. Her eyes met his, and she knew where her hands were going next. She began to slide her hand into his trousers and was pleased with his length that felt solid in her hands. He knew when she touched him; he would need to pace himself. He hadn’t had sex in two years… and this was Robin. The combination had the potential to be his complete undoing.  
Strike slid Robin’s leggings down as she briefly dropped her legs down to the ground. They were now both completely naked, shagging in a broken lift. After she hooked one leg around his hip, he opened his eyes and saw how completely debauched she was. He grunted the word, “Condom?” to which Robin replied, “IUD.” For an unlucky sod, Strike felt like he was going to hit the jackpot when he finally did push his shaft into her. He moved slowly at first until he could see the look of contentment on her face. 

Although this was the first time Robin was having sex in almost two years, she inherently knew she wanted it deep and hard. With the amount of friction from grinding her hips into his rock-hard length, she knew she’d be able to get what she wanted. He started slowly and was happy at how easily her body melded to his. Slow was fine at the start, but she needed more. She whispered in Strike’s ear, “I need all of you, and I need it harder.” Strike thought the look on his face must’ve been a mix of surprise and the lopsided grin he only gave Robin.

He continued thrusting steadily into her with the amount of pressure that suited them both. Strike could feel his release gathering at the base of his spine. As he continued to thrust, Robin’s muscles clenched his length, and he knew she was exactly where he wanted her. She began moaning his name, and he lost any control he thought he had to start. As he thrust into her, his release felt like his body had been waiting for only her these past two years.

They both returned to reality as Robin put her foot down and realized she was standing naked in the lift with Strike. Clothes were pulled back on as she looked at her mobile and saw they’d been stuck in the lift for almost three hours. She noticed she had a signal and tried calling the lift malfunction phone number a second time. To Strike’s disappointment, he could hear someone answer on the other end. Robin provided the relevant information to the operator, who gave a 30 minute ETA for the repair person.

As she slid her phone back into her pocket, she looked at Strike, sitting comfortably in his chair. She felt like she needed to pinch herself to ensure she knew what just transpired was real. He gestured for her to sit on his lap. As she did, she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, “I love you,” into his chest. Strike kissed her forehead and whispered, “I love you too.”

They enjoyed their companionable silence, holding each other until the lift repair person arrived. They both knew they’d need to talk, but just then, they wanted out of the lift. They’d figure everything out. They always did.


End file.
